A Pintsized Point of View
by scarletnight72
Summary: Set in POA. Remus's 5 year old daughter is thrilled when she gets to go live at Hogwarts with her dad, but why is everyone so tense all of the time? Who is this Sirius Black man, and why is her dad warning her to stay away from large, black dogs?
1. Prologue

Author's note: Yes, I realize that I should not be starting another fic when I have two more fics to focus on, but it's hard for me to concentrate on anything when the plot bunnies are running rampant. I know the prologue is short, but I'd love some feedback!

* * *

><p>Martha's delivery had been one of the hardest times of Remus's life. He'd spent hours talking her out of killing their unborn child, but what if she changed her mind? What if when it was born she sent it off to the Ministry to be put down? But it might not be infected with lycanthropy. It might be a healthy, happy child. Oh Merlin, how he hoped the baby would be healthy. Everytime he thought about it, another chunk of his hair would end up on the floor, peeled skin from his scalp caked grotesquely under his nails.<p>

Oh Merlin, his nails, his nails! He hadn't bothered to trim or even clean them! They were unfit for holding a newborn. What if he hurt him? Or her? …What if it was twins…oh bollocks!

But this could all be a moot point if Martha had the child put down.

Oh no, oh no, oh no!

"Mr. Lupin," the receptions called haughtily. "There is no need to wear a hole in the floor with your incessant pacing!"

She sneered at him. They all sneered at him. The Healer's wouldn't let him in the birthing room due to his condition, but really, he thought it was so that he couldn't try to pressure Martha into handing over the child to him. A werewolf parent could only have custody of the child if the human parent willingly agreed. When he'd told Martha about his condition, he'd actually believed that she might actually accept him. She'd seemed happy about the unplanned pregnancy, eager to share in the joys of parenthood with him… Then he told her. Excitement turned to horror.

She'd wanted to abort the baby. He'd begged and _begged_ her to keep it, to let him raise it. He swore he'd never try to contact her again if she'd please, just please let him keep the child. She'd reluctantly agreed after he'd thrown a few dollar signs into the equation. Remus was by no means a rich man, but he would sell everything in his name to save his child.

But what if the Healers convinced her to destroy it? Or it had lycanthropy and grew to resent him? Or—

"Mr. Lupin," a man in a white coat and a blank face came out. "Sign this form and you may take your daughter home."

Remus's chest squeezed with a dizzying tightness. "Girl, she's a girl? I have a daughter? Is…is she..?" his voice faltered.

The Healer shook his head. "She has been exposed to your lycanthropy and has picked up a few side effects, but she is not infected; however, you must be very careful with her Mr. Lupin. Usually with werewolf bites, there is a chance that the victim will not turn, but if you were to bite her—"

"I assure you, that will never happen," Remus said coldly, quickly snatching the documents and signing them.

The Healer's face remained impassive. He took the documents, scanned them, and nodded. "I will return with her shortly."

The second the Healer was out of sight, Remus slumped against a nearby wall in relief, ignoring the annoyed huff of the receptionist. His daughter was normal. She would live a normal, healthy life. A happy life. Remus would see to it that he gave her the best possible life she could possibly have.

The Healer returned and slipped a small, squirming bundle in Remus's arms. He looked down at his daughter in awe, heart swelling with a ridiculous amount of love. She looked so much like him..the same thin, straight nose, softly curved eyebrows, tawny hair, brown-gold eyes (though hers leaned more towards the brown shade than his). It was as if someone had taken all of his features, but smoothed them out, nipped and tucked, and given them a feminine softness.

He walked out of the hospital and looked towards the sky. James, Lily, Peter, look. Do you see her? How perfect she is? I'll tell her all about you; her brave family. You'll watch out for her, won't you? A gentle breeze ruffled his hair, and he smiled sadly, knowing in his heart that yes, they would. Even in death, they would always be his truest friends.

His mind drifted briefly to one Sirius Black, but he quickly forced his thoughts back on track. Seven years had passed since his life had gone to hell, and he was finally ready to heal. He'd turn all of his heartache into love for his daughter, and fill her life full of only nice things; Sirius Black was a thing she'd never have to know of.


	2. Playing with Padfoot

Emma didn't like the full moon. Her dad would get tired and grouchy, and would send her off to some neighbor's house for the evening. He always talked about how nice the neighbors were, but Emma didn't think they were very nice at all. They wrinkled their noses at her threadbare clothes and tried to force toys and food on her. She may be five, but she wasn't stupid. No one just so happened to have lots of toys 'lying around that it would be a shame for them to go to waste.' And no one really had 'all of this food that's about to go bad; if you and your daddy don't eat it, it'll be thrown out.' The food wasn't even close to the expiration date. Her daddy had taught her about expiration dates. She'd suggested he teach the neighbors too, and he'd laughed quietly and ruffled her hair.

She supposed that it was odd she didn't like all of the free food and toys. She knew the neighbors were trying to be nice, but all of the free stuff made her dad look sad. Emma thought it was because he wished he were the one to give her the stuff—she knew he had a hard time finding work—so to make him feel better, she made a point to always play with the toys he had gotten her the most, and to act like the watered-down soups they had most nights were her favorite dishes. Her dad was a wizard, so she told herself that everything he gave her was magical and therefore infinitely superior to anything anyone else could give her. So what if Susie Thomas down the road had new light-up sneakers? Her dad could make light out of air.

"Emma," her dad called, "are you ready to go?"

The little girl finished putting on her coat and ran up to her dad. "All ready."

Remus smiled and bent down to pick her up, but she took a large step backwards. "No daddy, I'm a big girl, I can walk it," she said, solemnly.

Remus had to fight down a snort at her serious face. "You sure? It's a long walk to the neighbors."

Emma nodded. Her dad was much too tired to worry about carrying someone as big as she was. She slipped her hand inside his larger one, and they started the trek.

* * *

><p>The day after the full moon ticked by slowly, each second feeling like an hour. Remus spent the entire day in bed, resting. Some days frightened Emma because her dad looked so worn that if he fell asleep, she didn't think he could wake back up. She'd sneak up into his room to watch his chest rise and fall and to feel his heartbeat drum at his wrist. She always left her second favorite toy, a stuffed deer named Prongs at his side for company (her favorite toy was her stuffed wolf Moony, Prongs's friend, but she thought he'd had enough of wolves for the time being).<p>

Emma wasn't supposed to go outside while her dad was sleeping, but she liked to think of this as more of a suggestion than an actual rule. She sprawled out under her favorite shady tree, waving Moony threw the air (he was 'super-Moony' right now) when she heard a low whine. Looking up, she gasped in shock, Moony slipping out of her grasp. Standing in front of her was a huge, bear –like animal covered in thick, matted black fur. Emma froze, trying to remember what her dad had told her about wild animals. Were you supposed to run or play dead?

'_Emma, don't go near wild animals.' 'Emma, don't touch that!' 'Emma Lily Lupin, you put that squirrel down this instant!'_

It was strange how adults would warn and warn you to avoid a situation but never actually told you what to do once you found yourself _in_ the situation. Emma settled with the playing dead option. She'd hear a boy say once that you played dead when you didn't want a bear to eat you, and this dog might as well have been a bear. She squeezed her eyes shut tight, and tried to hold her breath, being as still as a five-year old possibly could be.

Something could and wet nudged her hand. She gave a little shriek, jumping and tumping over backwards. The dog whined and took a small step backwards, bowing its head pitifully.

Emma sat up, regarding it warily. "Well you didn't bite me…Does that mean that you're a nice doggie?"

It quickly bobbed its head up and down.

"My daddy says I'm not supposed to touch wild animals," she said a bit regretfully, "so you should probably leave."

It whined again, flashing her its best puppy eyes.

"Well," she sighed, instantly caving under those big silver eyes, "daddy doesn't _have_ to know about this..and you don't seem very wild..just kind of dirty and smelly."

The dog gave an indignant huff. Emma shrugged. "Sorry puppy, but we both know you're smelly. That's okay though cause you're still cute." She reached out and scratched its head. "I like you. Are you hungry? Dogs like food, right?"

The dog yipped, tail wagging happily. Emma went inside and got the food her dad had left in the fridge for her—a cheese sandwich and an apple—and went back outside. The dog was sniffing curiously at her stuffed wolf. "That's Moony," she explained, sitting down. "I have a Prongs-deer too, but he's with daddy." She tore her sandwich in half and a half out to the dog. He wolfed it down in one bite, licking her hand for spare crumbs.

She laughed, reaching up to scratch his ears. "What should we name you?"

It held up a paw.

"Paw?"

It shook its head, thrusting its paw in her face.

"Leg? Claws? Foot?"

It barked and nodded, pressing its paw against her arm.

"Foot furry? Furry foot? Fluffy foot? Cold foot? Foot cold? Foot pad?"

The dark barked.

"Pad foot?"

Padfoot lept on her, licking her till she shrieked with laughter. She sprung up and began chasing after him; the two played till the sun was low in the sky.

"I gotta go now Padfoot," Emma informed the dog sadly. "Daddy will be up soon, and I'm not supposed to be outside. Bye."

She gave him a big hug and planted a kiss on his wet nose. He nodded and gave her a final goodbye lick before turning and running off into the trees surrounding her house.

She'd just slipped inside when her dad came down the stairs. He took one look at her and sighed.

"Emma, have you been outside?"

"No," she said in her best I'm-just-a-cute-lil-innocent-girl voice.

Remus fought down a sad smile. It seemed impossible, but he was sure Emma had somehow inherited that voice from James and—…just James.

"Sooo," he drawled, crossing his arms. "If you haven't been outside, then why are you covered in dirt?"

"It's not dirt."

"Then what is it?"

"..Pencil shavings. Moony and me wanted to make a mud-pie but there was no mud in the house, so we made a pile of pencils shavings and all the icky greyish parts got all over us. We used the colored pencils too, and when you mix all of the colors, it turns all brown, like dirt."

Remus wasn't sure whether to be proud or worried about how creative her excuses were becoming.

"So then, where's Moony?"

Emma gasped and bolted out the door to retrieve her forgotten companion. How could she forget Moony?

"I'm so, so, soo sorry buddy!" she cradled the stuffed wolf to her chest protectively as she walked back inside. Luckily, her dad understood the importance of her relationship with Moony and waited patiently for her to finish apologizing before he began talking again.

"Well, since you had so much fun outside today, I'm sure you won't mind staying inside all of tomorrow, now will you?"

Yes, she would very much mind that. She knew better than to argue with him though. "No sir."

"Now about your little lie…"

Emma put on her best pout, trying to look as sad and unpunishable as possible.

"I think Moony may have to come stay with me for the rest of the day. You know Moony doesn't like it when you lie to me."

Inwardly, Emma scoffed. Moony thought it was _funny_ when she lied to her dad. Heck, he made up half of the lies anyway. Reluctantly, she handed over her precious toy.

Her dad's face wrinkled up. "What exactly were you playing with? You smell like wet dog. I'll run you bath."

Emma shook her head. "I'm a big girl. I can do it myself." As if she'd let him after he took away her Moony. She stomped upstairs, neglecting to give him his usual post-moon hug (serves him right!) and started her own bath. Once she had finally scrubbed the scent of dog from her skin—the poor thing really had been rather smelly—she went back downstairs for dinner, determined to give her dad the cold-shoulder.

"What do you want for dinner?" her dad called from the kitchen, riffling through the shelves. "I can fix us some macaroni..or there's some ramen in the cupboard.."

Emma plopped down in one of the chairs, not answering. Stupid dad. Stupid rules.

Her dad sighed, turning to face her. "Look Emma, I know you're mad, but you know I made these rules for a reason, right? What if you got hurt outside? I wouldn't be there to help you. I wouldn't even hear it if you screamed for help."

He did have a point…and that dog Emma saw earlier could have been vicious.. She remembered how scared she was when she first saw it… Her anger started wavering.. Then Emma made the worst mistake she could ever make: she looked her dad in the eyes. Her dad always claimed that Emma had the worst (as in best) puppy eyes ever, but her dad's were much worse. His amber eyes would suddenly age and he'd look unbearably tired and sad. His brow furrowed, and he'd bite down on his lower lip. The kicker though was that he didn't even _realize_ he was doing it.

"Okay daddy, stop pouting. I'm not mad anymore. Let's have macaroni."

He pulled out the macaroni box, muttering something about not pouting.

"So exactly what all did you do today?"

"I made a new friend."

"Not another squirrel I hope."

"No, a doggie! He's big, and black, and kind of smelly, and he's named Padfoot!"

The box fell from Remus's hands, sending noodles across the floor. One skitted all the way under Emma's chair. She hoped up to help her dad clean it up when he spun around and grabbed her, pulling her into a fierce hug.

"Are you okay? Did he hurt you?"

"Daddy?"

"Did he hurt you!"

Emma shrank back from the yell. Her daddy never yelled.

"I'm fine. He was a nice puppy. He played with me."

"Stay here! No, no, wait, come with me!" He scooped her into his arms, taking off towards the fireplace. Emma hung on to his neck, in too much shock to ask where they were going.

Her dad threw some floo powder and stuck his head in the fireplace, calling out "Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry: Headmaster's office."

Emma heard someone say "ah Remus," but the rest of their sentence was cut off by her dad growling "let me through, now."

* * *

><p>Emma was too preoccupied with looking at Mr. Professor Dumbledore's office to pay much attention to the adults' conversation. She twisted in her dad's arms, trying to take in all of the colors, and knick knacks, and books, and— was that a giant bird? It was a beautiful mix of scarlet and gold, far more elegant than the pigeons that littered the park she sometimes got to play at. She waved shyly at it; it dipped its head in response.<p>

"Emma? Emma?"

Emma's head jerked around. Mr. Professor Dumbledore was staring at her expectantly.

"Um, what? Sorry."

"Quite alright. I said did Black say anything to you when he transformed."

"Who's Black? Like the color?"

"Padfoot," her dad whispered softly. "Did he say anything to you?"

"No. But he's a dog daddy. I don't think they can talk."

"Then how did you know his name?"

"He told me."

"But you said he couldn't talk."

"He can't. Unless..can magic dogs talk?"

"None that I'm aware of," Mr. Professor Dumbledore cut in.

"So he told you without speaking?" her dad asked, sounding if anything, more worried.

Emma nodded, not getting what the big deal was. It's not like 'Padfoot' was a dirty word or something.

"Emma, would you mind looking me in the eyes for a moment?" the bearded man asked gently.

Emma nodded, staring up into his eyes. They were the bluest eyes she'd ever seen, with little lights and flecks in them. She bet that was how her Aunt Lily's eyes had looked—not blue, but all flecky and sparkly, and all-around interesting to look at.

She felt something push against her, like there was something she needed to remember, but couldn't. It was an uncomfortable feeling that made her want to squirm and look away, but she found herself compelled to hold his gaze.

Finally, Dumbledore broke her gaze.

"He did not reveal himself to her or harm her in any way. I will contact the Auror office. Why don't you and your daughter have a seat?"

* * *

><p>Emma was struck by how useless adults really were. The men from the Auror office kept repeating the same questions, then they asked her dad to step out and repeated the questions as if her answers would have suddenly changed.<p>

"Oh that's enough!" a stern looking woman with glasses and a tight bun said, storming into the room.

Emma didn't see how she could keep her hair so tight; it looked like it stretched the skin of her forehead upwards. Maybe she thought it pulled her wrinkles smoother?

"Miss Lupin, your father will be occupied for several more hours, and the headmaster has asked me to look after you. Have you eaten supper yet?"

Emma shook her head, a tad frightened by the woman's stern aura.

"Very well, I shall have the house elves bring you up something. Now come along."

The Aurors protested, but the woman ignored them, so Emma ignored them as well (law enforcement or not, she'd much rather be on their bad side than this woman's).

"Um, excuse me ma'am," Emma asked as they walked through the stone hallway, "who are you?"

"I am Minerva McGonagall. I am the transfiguration professor here at Hogwarts."

Emma smiled, feeling tremendously more at ease. "You taught my daddy! He told me about you."

"All good things, I should hope?"

"He said that you're a nice lady, but I shouldn't get on your bad side cause you're scary when you're mad. Like a boggart but with claws. Do you really have claws?"

Her lips twitched upwards. "Quite. Let's hope you never see them."

Emma nodded, but kept glancing at Ms. Professor McGonagall's hands, wondering if her nails transformed to claws or if they poked out from her knuckles or something.

McGonagall led her to a tidy, but comfortable looking room. High bookshelves, sparse but interesting knick knacks, a beautifully woven gold and red rug, a mahogany coffee table, and a rather old looking couch and a gold, puffy looking chair. Gryffindor banners hung from the far wall. Everything was clean and in place, but not suffocating so.

"Have a seat," McGonagall said, gesturing to the couch. She waved her wand over the coffee table and a plate of sandwiches with a glass of pumpkin juice appeared.

Emma tried not to look impressed. She hardly ever got to have pumpkin juice…and these sandwiches were almost bigger than her mouth was… Despite her mental assurances that her daddy's mac'n cheese would have tasted better, she couldn't help herself from polishing off almost the entire plate.

"Ms. Professor McGonagall?"

The woman looked up from the chair where she was riffling through some documents. "Professor McGonagall will do. Yes?"

"Can I sleep? I'm tired."

"Of course dear."

She waved her wand over the couch, and it transformed into a plump bed, complete with pillows and a cover. Emma snuggled under the blanket, thinking over the day's events. Why was it such a big deal that she'd played with that dog? Maybe it had rabies or something…but it'd seemed so nice….she'd always wanted a dog…..maybe she could convince her daddy that it was a nice dog, and they could keep it…..

* * *

><p>When Emma woke again, her head was in her daddy's lap, and he was stroking her hair. They were on Professor McGonagall's couch, and he was staring into space with an odd, foreign expression on his face. Emma didn't like it when he looked like that; it gave him an almost vapid aura, as if he could suddenly fade away and leave her grasping at empty air.<p>

"Daddy?"

His expression shifted to a tired smile, but she could still see tinges of unease in his eyes. "You should go back to sleep. It's past midnight."

"Then why are you awake."

"I couldn't sleep."

"Well maybe I can't sleep."

"Of course you can. You've been asleep for the past five hours."

Emma sat up, nestling her head on her dad's shoulder, yawning widely. "Well I can't sleep now."

Her dad held her close, and they sat in silence for a while. Just as Emma was about to nod off, he spoke again. "Do you like Hogwarts Emma-Lily?"

Emma liked it when he said her name like that. It made her feel special from all the other Emmas that were on the planet. "I don't know. I liked Mr. Professor Dumbledore's office, and the hallway, and this room. I haven't really seen anywhere else."

"I'll take you on a tour tomorrow..You see..Dumbledore has offered me a job here, teaching. I'm wondering if I should take it…"

Emma couldn't suppress a yawn from bubbling over. "Think later daddy, it's sleeping time now. But you'd make a good teacher."

He smiled and lied down on the couch, pulling Emma to his chest and spreading the blanket across them. "You think so?"

Emma mumbled something that could have been a 'yes' before sleep overcame her.

Remus closed his eyes and tried to follow his daughter's advice.

(Author's note: I know no one is suppossed to know that Sirius is Padfoot, but I think Remus would tell ppl to keep his daughter safe. So let me know if this story is worth continuing. I think it's good practice for me to write mostly from a child's pov, but I'd still like to know if anyone actually likes it.)


	3. the Hogwarts Express

(Author's note: Many scenes in this chapter contain either direct quotes from POA, or closely paraphrased ones.)

* * *

><p>Walking around Hogwarts was way too cool. Emma's dad wouldn't let her go outside since she was still in trouble for sneaking out yesterday, but the inside of the castle was so impressive that she didn't feel as if she was missing out. She marveled over how smooth the stone on the floor was while the stone on the walls was rougher and bumpy. The ceilings were so high, she imagined a full grown giant would feel perfectly at home under them.<p>

A ghost with a curly mustache and an old, puffy tunic came floating through the wall. "Good day to you Mr. Lupin. And who is this young lady?"

Her dad smiled. "This is my daughter Emma; Emma, this is Sir Nickolas."

"How do you do?" Sir Nickolas asked, bowing gracefully. As he did so, his head flopped over to his right shoulder, neck nearly severed.

Emma gasped, staring up at him wide-eyed. "Wow. I wish I could do that."

Sir Nickolas grimaced. "It's not as fun being nearly headless as you would think. Much people seem to think it's nearly as impressive as being completely headless." He gave a huffy sniff.

"Why? If I if I you're head wasn't attached, you'd have to carry it around all day cause it wouldn't stay on your head. Or you'd have to be really careful when you walked and stuff so it wouldn't fall over."

"She has a point you know," Remus said, ruffling Emma's hair. "And imagine if you lost your head! Your body would have to wander around without eyes and would get into all kinds of trouble, while your head just sat there, bored."

Sir Nickolas nodded thoughtfully, looking much more cheerful. "Too true! I hope Mr. Lupin, that you will take on the role of the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. You and your daughter would be wonderful additions to our school!"

Emma smiled, liking the idea already. "If Daddy takes the job, you should come play with me sometime."

"I most certainly shall." He gave one more bow, with a theatrical flourish, and zoomed away through the walls.

Emma turned to her dad. "We should move in now."

He raised an eyebrow. "You've only seen two floors. Are you really that eager to get rid of our old house?"

"No, I love our place! But Hogwarts is..is..I don't know, it's like magical!"

"Well, it is a school designed to teach magic…"

"Daddy! You know what I mean."

Her dad smiled widely in her favorite way, making the corners of his eyes go all crinkly, and scooped her up and onto his shoulders. "Come on you little day-lily. If you like it now, just wait till you see the kitchens."

* * *

><p>After a few more conversations with Mr. Professor Dumbledore (during which Emma stayed with Professor McGonagall. She rather liked the stern woman; McGonagall told her funny stories about her Dad, Uncles Peter and James, and Aunt Lily while they were in school) her Dad had finally decided tot accept the job. The school year was roughly a month away (and unfortunately the day after the full moon), so they would go home, pack and what-not, then come back via the Hogwarts Express. Emma was particularly excited over this since she'd never ridden a train before.<p>

Emma did wonder why they didn't just floo to the school, but she thought she'd overheard something about Dumbledore wanting a professor on the train this year. Emma was quickly distracted from her thoughts though when her Dad started in on another of his Marauder stories.

* * *

><p>It was weird to see her Dad up and about the day after a full moon. His face was drawn and pale and dark circles engulfed his eyes. Emma thought that he should skip the opening feast; he might just scare off the students. Despite his obvious fatigue, he carried Emma easily through the crowd at the train station.<p>

"Are you ready to see something cool?" he asked, eyes sparking with mischief.

She nodded.

He leaned casually against a brick wall. Emma stared at him in confusion, then gasped as their bodies slipped sideways through the stone. Before she could blink, they were standing in an isolated station, with wizards and witches bustling about, in front of the biggest train Emma had ever seen..Well, it was bigger than the trains in her coloring books.

"How did we do that?" she asked.

"Magic."

She rolled her eyes. "When we get to the school, I'm gonna learn bunches so I know everything about magic, and I won't have to ask you anymore."

"Perhaps you can explain everything to me instead. But if you learn everything there is to know about magic now, then what are you going to do when you turn eleven and you're supposed to start school for real? Won't it be dreadfully boring, having to sit through seven years of material you already know?"

"I'll teach instead. I'll go up to Mr. Professor Dumbledore and tell him that I know too much to be a student."

"And if he says 'no?'"

"It's okay, cause Mr. Sorting Hat will know I'm right, and he'll sort me as a teacher, and then I'll go sit at the adult table, and they'll have to accept me."

Her dad nodded thoughtfully. "Sounds like a solid plan to me."

They boarded the train, and her dad slipped into a compartment near the back. He loaded their luggage and handed Emma a small bag with a few toys. Emma immediately pulled out Moony and Prongs so they could see the train. Prongs was a bit peeved at her because she hadn't been playing with him lately, but when she told him how she'd been distracted by her dad getting a new job, he forgave her. She told her dad that Prongs was happy he'd gotten a job and that he thought Remus would make a great teacher. Remus smiled and said thank you to Prongs, but his eyes were focused upwards.

Within minutes of sitting down, her dad fell asleep. Moony was feeling tired too, so she tucked him under her dad's arm and smiled fondly at the two.

The door to the compartment opened. Three older kids came in—a busy brown haired girl, a boy with black untidy hair, and glasses, and a red haired boy. The boy with the glasses looked vaguely familiar…

"What are you doing here?" the red-head asked.

The girl rolled her eyes. "She's obviously Professor Lupin's daughter Ron."

"How do you know that?"

"The man's briefcase says his name, why else would he be here, and she looks just like him." The girl turned to me. "Hello. I'm Hermione. This is Ron and Harry. Do you mind if we sit with you?"

Emma nodded. "I'm Emma-Lily." She held out her stuffed deer. "This is Prongs. The wolf my Daddy is holding is Moony. Daddy sleeps really hard, so you can talk a lot and he won't wake up."

Hermione smiled. "Pleased to meet you Emily."

"No. Emma. Lily. I like both my names, but you can call me Emma."

Ron looked at Emma like she was mental, but Hermione just nodded. "My apologies. Nice to meet you Emma."

"And you too Prongs and Moony," Harry added softly.

Emma instantly liked him. Anyone who was nice to her friends was a good person. Hermione seemed nice too.

The three sat down on the opposite side of the compartment. Emma looked at Harry carefully. Who did he remind her of…Oh! He looked like her dad's old photographs of Uncle James.

"Hey, Mr. Harry?"

He looked at her a bit awkwardly. "Er, you don't have to call me Mister.."

Emma nodded. "Harry, do you know James?"

"James who?"

"My Uncle James. He went to school with my Daddy, and you look just like the photos of him."

"Did your 'Uncle James' pass away a long time ago?" Hermione asked.

Emma nodded, and Harry smiled. "I think that would be my father. So your dad went to school with my dad?"

Emma nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah! They were best friends so James is my uncle even though I don't know him. I also have an Uncle Peter and an Aunt Lily. Oh, I guess Lily was your mummy. My middle name was named after her. Hey, this means that we're like cousins!"

Harry laughed as the young girl bounced excitedly. He got the feeling that she'd make a much better cousin than Dudley. "Do you think your Dad would mind showing me a photograph of them? I have some, but not many.."

Ron reached out and gave Harry a small clap on the back.

Emma nodded. "He can tell you stories too. I'd tell you, but Daddy tells them better. Will you be nice to him while he's teaching? He's nervous that he won't be any good."

The three nodded and promised to behave in his class. Emma noticed an odd, quivering lump in Ron's pocket.

She pointed at him. "Your pockets is moving."

"Oh, that's just my rat Scabbers. He always gets a bit fidgety on the train."

Emma had always wanted a stuffed rat because of her Uncle Peter, but she'd yet to find one; a real rat would be even better! "Can I see?"

Ron nodded, pulling out the squirming grey lump. Emma 'oohed,' reaching out to pet him softly. "Hello Scabbers. You're a pretty rat."

"He's been in my family for twelve years," Ron said, proud to display his rat. The rat however, seemed less keen on being ogled, and quickly weaseled his way back into Ron's pocket. Ron shrugged. "Don't know what's wrong with him. Maybe he can smell Hermione's bloody cat."

Hermione scowled at him. "Well if Scabbers is going to hide, I might as well let Crookshanks out." She picked up a cat carrier and let out a mass of orange fur with a squashed face. It rubbed up against Hermione, purring loudly, and let Emma pet it.

A woman with a food trolley came by. Initially, Emma turned down Harry's offer to buy her something, but after she saw that he was also treating his friends, and he mentioned that she should consider it a favor as a cousin, she relented and was now happily munching on a pumpkin pastry.

"Your dad really is a hard sleeper," Ron mumbled. "Do you suppose he really is asleep? I mean, he hasn't died, has he?"

"Ron!" Hermione gave him a little shove. "You can see him breathing; of course he's not dead."

Harry rolled his eyes, and Emma giggled.

The compartment door opened, and a boy with platinum blond hair stepped in, flanked by two large boys that could possibly be part Troll.

"Well, look who it is," he said in a lazy drawl, "Potty and Weasel. I heard your father finally got his hands on some gold this Summer Weasley. Did you mother die of shock?"

Ron stood up so quickly he knocked Crookshanks's basket to the floor.

"Who'd that?" Malfoy asked, eyes flickering between Emma and her father.

"New teacher," said Harry, standing up. "What were you saying Malfoy?"

Malfoy stormed off, muttering under his breath, the other two close behind.

Harry and Ron sat down.

"I'm not going to take any crap from Malfoy this year," he said angrily. "I mean it. If he makes one more crack about my family, I'm going to get hold of his head and —" Ron was cut off by Hermione shushing him, shooting a look towards Emma and her dad.

Emma frowned. "He was a meanie, wasn't he?"

Harry nodded. "The meanest."

Emma held out her stuffed deer to Ron. "Do you want to play with Prongs? He'll make you feel better."

"Err..um..thanks." He took the toy carefully, setting it in his lap. "Gee, I um feel loads better already."

Hermione gave Ron an approving smile while Harry hid a grin behind his hand.

A few hours later, the train began to slow. Emma looked up from her coloring book, and the trio's talking died off. Hermione frowned. "We can't be there yet."

Harry opened the compartment door to peak out into the hallway. The train lurched to a rough stop and all of the lights snapped off. Emma gave a little yelp of surprise and latched on to her dad's leg.

*"What's going on?" Ron said.

"Ouch!" gasped Hermione. "Ron, that was my foot!"

"D'you think we've broken down?"

"There's something moving out there," Ron said. "I think people are coming aboard."

The compartment door opened.

"Sorry! D'you know what's going on? Ouch! Sorry—"

"Hullo, Nevile," said Harry.

"Harry? Is that you?"

"What's happening?"

Emma felt her dad begin to stir. She ignored the confused voices, and shook his leg, feeling nervous in the dark. His hand suddenly dropped down to her head. She relaxed, feeling more at ease now that her dad was awake to take care of things. "Quiet!" her dad called out hoarsely.

A moment later, his wand was emitted a silvery light that filled the compartment as if he was holding a handful of flames. He stood and scooped Emma off the floor, depositing her in his vacant seat. "Stay where you are."

He stepped towards the door, but it slide open before he could reach it. Standing in the doorway, was a towering cloaked figure, with a grey, slimly looking hand protruding from beneath its robe. It drew in a rattling breath, and Emma felt an icy chill rush over her. It penetrated deep within her, making her head spin, making her thoughts flash to all those scary, bad, full moons when she worried about her dad, and those times when he showed up with a new scar…

Harry hit the floor with a loud thud, and her dad sprang into action, quickly striding towards the creature. "None of us are hiding Sirius Black under our cloaks. Go." He waved his wand, yelling 'expecto patronum,' and a silvery white wolf charged down the creature. It let out a croaky shriek, and whirled away. The cold atmosphere lessened slightly, and the lights popped back on. The train began moving again.

Hermione and Ron dropped to their knees by Harry. For one awful, terrifying moment, Emma was sure that Harry wasn't going to get back up. She let out a shaky sigh of relief when his eyes opened.

"Are you okay?" Ron asked.

"Yeah," Harry said, sitting up. "What happened? Where's that—that thing? Who screamed?"

"No one screamed," Ron said nervously.

Remus pulled a large chocolate bar out of his pocket, and broke of a large chunk, making everyone jump. He handed Emma a piece, and gave another to Harry.

"What was that thing?" Harry asked Remus.

"A Dementor," her dad said, giving chocolate to everyone else. "One of the Dementors of Azkaban." He turned to Emma. "Are you alright?"

She nodded. He ruffled her hair then turned to everyone else. "Eat. It'll help. I need to speak to the driver…" he gave Emma another look, and she nodded, affirming again that she was okay. "Excuse me." He stepped out of the corridor.

Emma quickly ate her chocolate, not listening to the others' conversation. She jumped when Hermione rested a hand on her shoulder. It wasn't till the older girl handed her a hanker-chief that she realized there were tears clinging to her cheeks.

An orange haired girl in the corner let a small sob. Ron wrapped an arm around her shoulders. Emma dried her face and hugged Moony and Prongs to her chest. Her dad came back in, and gave everyone a small smile. "I haven't poisoned the chocolate, you know…We'll be at Hogwarts in ten minutes. Are you alright, Harry?"

Harry muttered a fine, and everyone began to silently eat their chocolate. Emma's dad pulled her into his lap, kissing the top of her head. When the train stopped, he picked her up, carrying towards the castle. "Our luggage will take care of itself," he explained to her. "Now we get to watch the Sorting. That'll be fun, right?"

Emma nodded, cheering up slightly. They came into the Great Hall before the students arrived. She waved at Professor Dumbledore and he smiled in return. "Do you want your own seat?" her dad asked.

Emma shook her head. She was feeling alright, but she was still a bit shaken up from the Dementor incident. Remus sat sown, situating her in his lap. A very short man to their right said a cheerful hello to Remus and introduced himself to Emma as Professor Flitwick.

The students filed in and the sorting began. Shortly afterwards, McGonagall walked in with Harry and Hermione in tow. She gave them all a big wave, and they waved back. McGonagall took a seat on Remus's left. "Hello Remus. Ms. Lupin."

They said returned the hellos just as Dumbledore started his speech. Emma ignored most of it till they got to the part about her dad teaching (she clapped loudly, smiling up at him. He rolled his eyes, shaking his head at her).

When the food finally appeared, Emma did nothing but stare at it for several minutes, till her dad, laughing at her shock, asked her if she was going to try and absorb through her eyes. She ignored him, lobbing chicken and potatoes onto her plate (her dad very unhelpfully added a ridiculously large spoonful of peas). She usually tried to act like her dad's food was the best ever, but she was finding it difficult with so much mouth-melting goodness in front of her…She told herself that it was okay though since she was getting this food because of her dad's job.

"Careful," her dad warned, "you eat too much and you'll end up with a stomach ache."

She gave him a dry look. "Don't act like you didn't get yourself an extra pudding when no one was looking Daddy. If anything, _I_ should be telling _you_ to be careful."

Dumbledore chuckled good-naturedly. "I see she's inherited your wit Remus."

The werewolf shook his head. "No, it took me years to develop my wit. At the rate she's going…Merlin help us all."

Emma smiled, purposely taking an extra-large bite of potato, and enjoyed the rest of the feast.

(Author's note: Feedback please!)


	4. Early prank

Author's note: Sorry about the long wait guys! This was supposed to come out nearly a week ago, but the computer I type it on caught a virus and had to go to the shop.

* * *

><p>After the welcome feast was over, Emma finally got to see where she and her dad would be living for the next several months.<p>

"Are you ready?" Remus asked her.

She nodded excitedly. He slowly opened the door to reveal…an office. A bare office with only a large desk and a chair. "This is it?" Emma asked. She didn't want to be whinny, but surely her dad didn't expect her to live here.

He reached down and ruffled her hair. "Patience Emma Lily. Good things come to those who wait."

"Patience for what? Are we waiting for the room to grow?"

"You could say that."

He walked up to a portrait of a small bird. It wasn't one Emma recognized; it was navy blue with red-purple streaks on its belly, and long, curly tail feathers. "Chunky monkey."

Emma giggled. Chunky monkey was her favorite flavor of ice cream (mostly because it was fun to make her dad say it whilst ordering). Her giggle quickly turned to a gasp however, when the portrait opened up to reveal a staircase.

Emma quickly ran down it, not waiting for her dad to follow. The living area had plush beige carpet, a mahogany coffee table, a long brown couch, and a brown, comfy looking chair. Against the walls were a few shelves, bare for the moment. The carpet gave way to a hardwood dining area with a small table and three chairs. It had cabinets and a sink, but none of the muggle appliances Emma was used to seeing a home.

Her dad prodded her forward. "Your bedroom is the first one down the hallway."

Emma raced to it, threw open the door, and froze, stunned. The carpet was a dark brown color and the walls were an interesting mosaic of pink and orange blends. On the far wall, the one with the window, a giant brown tree had been painted with swirly branches that wrapped around the window seal. The bed sat at the center of the room, head pushed against the wall. Its cover was emerald green with brown circles.

Remus came up behind her and shook his head. "Look at those walls. You would like something like that, wouldn't you?"

"But..how?"

"Verbs Emma dear. You mustn't forget how to use your verbs. How what?"

"How did they know I liked pink? And orange? And trees? And green?"

"Well it is a magic castle. I imagine it knows a lot of things."

Emma gaped at him. "You mean the _castle_ did this?"

He nodded. "It expands and changes as it pleases."

Emma ran to the nearest wall and threw herself at it, doing her best to try and hug it. "Thank you, thank you, thank you Mr. Castle! I love it! I promise I'll take really good care of it!"

Remus laughed, gently prying his daughter away from the wall. "It's a room not a kitten Emma. Though I do expect you to keep it clean."

"Will do! Oh, but can I have a kitten?"

"No."

"I'd take good care of it!"

"I'm sure you would. Now would you like to see my room?"

She nodded, easily distracted to Remus's relief. He should know by now never to mention the potential pets in front of a child.

Remus's room was no disappointment—at least not to him. Emma had been hoping that as a teacher, her dad would have something grander. He had the same chocolaty carpet as Emma did with bronze colored walls and a king sized bed with a rich red cover. Hanging on his wall was a framed piece of paper, containing some of his favorite lines of poetry. He supposed that he'd quoted them enough for the castle to remember them. He smiled; even as an adult, Hogwarts knew exactly how to make him feel right at home.

He sat on the bed, patting the spot next to him. "It's almost time for bed. Why don't you tell me what I missed while I was asleep on the train? We can worry about unpacking tomorrow."

Emma nodded, climbing up next to him. "I met my cousin."

"Oh did you?"

"Uh-huh. Harry. He's James and Lily's son. So he's my cousin."

Remus shook his head. "How did you figure it out so fast?"

"He looks just like Uncle James! I'd have to be blind not to see it, Daddy!" She frowned. "But why didn't you tell me about him? I mean if Uncle James was like your brother, shouldn't Harry be like your nephew?"

Her dad closed his eyes, almost looking as if he were iin pain. He'd been anticipating this question but had hoped to put it off for a bit.

"…Emma…do you remember the stories you've heard about the dark lord?"

"Yeah..he was all evil and bad and stuff…He killed James and Lily."

"Yes. And he tried to kill Harry too. He was only a baby. Only a year old..yet he survived…Harry is famous, you see. The whole wizarding world knows of him..that kind of fame can change a person. And Dumbledore didn't want that to happen. So he sent Harry away. I wanted to find him. I begged Dumbledore to let me contact him: even letters or phone calls would have been better than nothing. But the Ministry also wanted Harry. They wanted to use him for propaganda purposes..Dumbledore couldn't let me contact Harry, or the Ministry would demand contact as well. So I backed off. It was what was best for Harry. And now so much time has passed…Harry doesn't remember me anymore. I still care about him, but we're strangers..I'm afraid it's too late for us."

Emma tried to wrap her mind around everything her dad had said. She didn't completely understand. What did it matter to the Ministry if her dad saw Harry and they didn't? He was family, and family came first. "I told him you could tell him some stories about his parents. He wants to hear them. You could tell him everything and then it wouldn't be too late, and maybe he could come visit us."

Remus smiled sadly, placing a kiss on top of her head. "That would be nice. You let Harry know that I'll tell him whatever he wants to hear. Now I think it's past someone's bedtime."

Later, in bed, Emma would keep thinking about her dad's story. It made her uncomfortable, but she couldn't help but think that her dad had abandoned Harry. Was it really better to disrupt a family if it was for someone's own good? Her mind wondered to her mum—or rather the faceless fragments of thought that popped up when she thought about her mum. Emma had never asked her dad why she didn't have a mother. Partly because she didn't want him to feel that he wasn't doing a good enough job caring for her by himself, but also because she was slightly afraid of the answer. Had her mum left to protect her? True she was happy now, but she couldn't help but feel a like a little piece of her was missing. Was that worth whatever had made her mum leave? What would happen if her dad ever thought leaving her would be for her own good? Would he do it? The thought would give her such a queasy feeling—not unlike that of a Dementor's presence—that she would leave her wonderful new room, and eventually fall asleep curled up next to her dad.

* * *

><p>Emma was allowed to go anywhere her dad had shown her the way to: the kitchens, her dad's classroom (if she'd be well behaved), McGonagall's office (emergencies only), Dumbledore's office (emergencies only), the library, the owlrey, and outside so long as she stayed close (but not disruptively close) to Hagrid's cabin or one of the outside classes.<p>

Emma quickly learned that if she climbed the right trees, she could either watch Professor Sprout's class or Professor Hagrid's class. She was currently watching the latter, who was showing his class giant bird-like creatures.

She silently cheered Harry on as he stepped forward and bowed to the creature and then—remarkably—rode it. Emma was sorely tempted to jump down from her hiding spot and beg Professor Hagrid to let her have a ride too, but she imagined her dad wouldn't approve…

She didn't stay to watch the rest of the lesson, getting distracted by her grumbling belly. Her dad had warned the house elves to only give her healthy snacks, but she still delighted in going down to the kitchens and watching the little guys scurry about.

The best part though, was the meat. Thick, juicy cuts of meat, cut into little squares with tempting pink centers, all for her to enjoy. Her dad had told her that there were some people who didn't eat meat, but Emma didn't see how they did it; meat was just so good!

She wandered around the castle—only veering slightly from the dad-approved halls mind you—when she came upon a peculiar site. Two identical red-heads were in a corner, hunched together, talking in hurried whispers.

"Hi," she called out, making them jump.

"Told you we should have grabbed the map," one of them muttered to the other.

"S'no big deal; it's just Lupin's kid," the other muttered back.

"I can hear you," Emma said, a little annoyed.

Identical stares turned to her.

"You're not going to try and tattle on us, are you?" they asked.

When Emma shook her head, they both smiled.

"Well then my dear, I am Gred Weasley, and this is my brother Forge Weasley, at your service!"

"No, no, I'm Forge, and you're Gred!"

"Oh dear…perhaps it's Geord and Frege?"

"Well whoever we are, it's nice to meet you…though if you ask our mum, I believe we are known as Fred the magnificent one, and George, the homely one."

They stuck out their hands, and Emma shook them bemusedly. "I'm Emma. Why are you in the hallways?"

"We're plotting. But shhh, it's a secret," said George.

"Of course we're always plotting, and everyone knows it, so it's not that big of a secret," said Fred.

"I'll keep it a secret!" Emma said, wanting the funny twins to like her. "I'll even help!"

"Oh really now…" the both said, smirking at each other.

"Should we take this chance to corrupt a youth so young and pure, dear Fred?"

"Why I believe we should, Dear George."

They turned back to her wearing Cheshire grins. "You're in."

"We'll call upon you when we fit you in to our devious plans," said Fred.

"So beware of dark corners," said George.

"And the well lit ones too. You never know when us Weasleys will strike," said George.

"Too-da-loo little Lupin child," called Fred as they disappeared down the corridor.

* * *

><p>Emma stared after them for a few moments, not quite sure what had just happened. She went back to her room to tell Moony and Prongs about it. Moony, sensible as he was, warned her to watch out around the twins and make sure they didn't try to trick her into doing anything bad. Though as Prongs said, being a little bad wouldn't hurt anything.<p>

She was in her room playing when her dad came in from teaching. Emma ran up and threw herself around his legs, nearly knocking him over. "How was class? Did everyone learn a bunch of things? Did they like you? Did you have to give anyone detention? Did you see Harry? And the Weasley twins? Or Hermione, or Ron?"

"Slow down, slow down! No, no detentions, I hope they learned something, and yes, I saw all of the aforementioned. And how was your day?"

"Good. I played outside and ate meat."

He ruffled her hair. "Sounds like a good day to me. I'm going to work on brightening up my office now. It looks rather plain, don't you think?"

She nodded. "Can I help?"

"Of course."

* * *

><p>It was nearly a week before Emma saw the twins again (aside from the occasional wave at dinner). She was walking down the hallway, when a hand dropped down on each one of her shoulders and spun her around.<p>

"There's our favorite Lupin child!"

"Are you ready to prank with us?"

Emma nodded eagerly. "Of course!..But which one of you is which again?"

"Just call us Thing 1 and Thing 2; we'll answer depending on who feels the need to respond to you."

Emma didn't see how that would help the situation any but nodded anyway, clutching Moony to her chest. She was glad she brought him—he'd keep her safe in case the twins took their prank too far. "So what do you want me to do?"

"We have some special powder you see…"

"That we need for you to give to a certain Headmaster…"

"You know, the one whose obscene age is even longer than the length of his glorious beard."

"Slip it in his drink during dinner."

"So that's all?"

"That would be true. What say you Thing 2?"

"Well Thing 1, I think that's all she has to do to witness some fun."

Whatever caution Emma felt around the twins, dissipated as she broke into giggles.

"You two are silly. But sure, I'll do it, since there's nothing to it."

"Ah, so the little Lupin can rhyme!"

They both gave her high-fives, then handed her a small bag. "Now give this to the Headmaster at dinner."

"Can do!"

* * *

><p>Emma couldn't help but think that maybe she couldn't do this… But the twins were funny, and she wanted them to like her.. Besides, her dad and his friends used to prank people, so he probably wouldn't get too mad.<p>

At dinner, Emma did as told. She dropped a handful of powder in the Headmaster's goblet as he was talking with another professor and then took her normal spot in between her dad and Professor McGonagall.

After an eternity of talking and eating, Dumbledore finally took a sip. He frowned, as if in deep thought. He mouth suddenly sprung open, and he began yodeling from deep within his chest. The entire Hall went dead silent as all eyes turned to Dumbledore. The man himself didn't seem too bothered by his uncontrollable yodeling; on the contrary, his eyes were twinkling merrily, and he even began motioning with his hands, emphasizing words as he sang. When the yodels died away, he took a deep bow. The twins burst into applause, soon followed by the rest of the Hall.

One of the twins—Thing 1, Emma decided—gave her a big wink.

She turned to see Professor McGonagall fixing the crowd of students with a stern look, but her dad was kneeled over, laughing. He pulled her to his side, wiping away tears of mirth. When he saw McGonagall's expression, he tried but failed to sober. "T-that was a..pff..very bad thing to do. Don't try-haa-try to emulate whoever did it Emma."

Dumbledore chuckeled. "Emulate all you want to dear; it was all in good fun after all."

Professor Hagrid leaned over the table towards Emma. "Yer dad us'd ta cause all kinds a mischief back in 'is day, ya know."

Emma had heard the stories before, but she imagined her dad had left quite a bit out. "Like what?" she asked, wanting to know more.

"Why don you come up for a spot o' tea tomoraw. I'll tell ya all bout it."

Emma glanced at her dad. He gave a nod of permission, and she nodded. She'd ask Professor Hagrid about Harry too. She had been looking for a good excuse to talk to him and had seen Harry and his friends talking with Professor Hagrid before.

She took a large bite of pudding, already looking forward to tomorrow.

* * *

><p>That night when Remus was tucking Emma in to bed, he gave her a knowing smirk. "So, what'd you slip the headmaster?"<p>

Emma tried to look innocent. "What do you mean Daddy?"

"Please, I can spot the mirth of a prankster after a successful plan unfolds anywhere; now how did you do it, and how did you get a hold of whatever you used to do it?"

"It was a powder thing..I slipped it it his drink…Prongs made me do it."

"Oh, I'm sure he encouraged it," her dad laughed, shaking his head. "Seriously though, where did you get it?"

"Faeries."

He rolled his eyes. "All right Emma Lily, you can keep this one a secret. In the future though, try not to prank my boss. Night sweetie."

"Night."

(Author's note: Thanks for all of the positive feedback! I'd love to hear more about what ya'll think of my story. Btw, finals are coming up, so if the next update takes more than 3 weeks, that is why).


	5. Tea with Hagrid

A/N: Looking for a Beta! I can't seem to proof read my work thoroughly enough. If you're interested, leave a comment or pm me :)

* * *

><p>Emma had been looking forward to having tea at Hagrid's ever since she woke up, but had dad had made her promise to wait till at least eleven o'clock before she visited. It was ten till eleven when Emma made her way to Hagrid' hut.<p>

He opened the door within seconds of knocking, smiling widely. "Ello Emma."

A slobbering mass of fur bolted towards her, nearly knocking her over.

"Don worry, that's jus Fang, 'es harmless, really," Hagrid said, pulling Fang back by his collar.

"It's okay, I like big dogs," Emma said, remembering Padfoot. She reached up to scratch behind Fang's ears as Hagrid went to fetch the tea.

"Ave a seat. Cake?"

"Yes, please," Emma said seating.

Hagrid presented her with a large cup and a mound of cake that hit the table with a loud thud. Emma cautiously nibbled on it; it had the consistency of a rock. "Um, Professor Hagrid, would you mind breaking this into bites for me?"

"Sure thing," he said, breaking it into more manageable bits.

Emma found that she could now suck on them like one would rock candy.

"So," Professor Hagrid said, "how ya likin Hogwarts?"

Emma needed no further prompting. She launched into a tale of everything that had happened to her since she first got to Hogwarts—minus the prank of course. Professor Hagrid seemed pleased that Emma was interested enough in his class to watch. He told her that she could sit in anytime she wanted.

It was time to talk about what she was really interested though. She looked down, fiddling with Moony. "So, um, you see Harry a lot, yeah?"

"Sure do. He an Ron an Hermione come down ter see me a lot. Good kids they are."

"Do you think that you could help me talk with Harry? See my dad was his dad's friend back in school and—"

"Say no more," Professor Hagrid said, waving her off. "Yer dad an James were insep'rable. The trio's comin for tea this weekend bout this time. Why don ya come down then?"

She jumped up to hug him. "Thank you!"

"Not a problem. Now, how'd ya like ta hear bout some unicorns?"

Emma sat back down happily to listen to Hagrid's story.

* * *

><p>"But Daddy, you have to come with me!" Emma pouted.<p>

Remus sighed. "For the last time Emma, I'm not going. It would be rude of me to show up unannounced."

Emma had been trying to convince her dad to join her for tea with Hagrid and the trio all week, but he kept stubbornly refusing. He came up with excuses about how it'd be impolite, or how the students wouldn't want to have tea with him, but Emma wasn't buying it.

"You're just nervous about seeing Harry."

"I am not," her dad defended halfheartedly.

"Yes you are. You're afraid he won't like you."

Her dad seemed to deflate a little, dropping his head in his hands. "But what if he doesn't? I mean I've wanted to see him for years, and what if I screw it up now, and he never wants to speak to me again, and I'll know I blew it before it even starts and—" he shook his head. "Forget it."

Emma sat next to him on the couch, patting his knee. "No, go on."

"You're five Emma. I'm not going to rant about all of my problems to you."

"Why not? I've got ears after all. Besides, I tell you when I'm feeling sad."

Remus's lips twitched upwards in a small smile. "I appreciate what you're trying to do Emma. But Harry is going to have questions for me that I don't know if I'm ready to answer…that is if he even likes me enough to formulate the questions in the first place…"

"How do you formulate a question?"

"You think of it."

"Oh. Well Harry looks like he thinks a lot, so it should be okay."

"Yes, but Hagrid—"

"Spent half of our teatime talking all about you. And talks to you every night at dinner. And is super nice. He'll be fine with you randomly showing up."

He nodded. "Fine. I'll go with you."

Emma smiled happily, running to her bedroom to go and get Prongs. Remus shook his head. "I can't believe I just got coerced into this by a five year old," he murmured to the vacant room.

* * *

><p>The trio was already there when Emma and her dad arrived. They said polite hellos to Remus, seeming as he had feared, a bit nervous to be in the presence of their defense professor. Remus smiled and held up his hands.<p>

"I am merely here as a friend of Hagrid, not as a professor. Everything said here shall be kept in confidence; though it might be better if you refrained from discussing any future exploits you have plotted."

They seemed to loosen at his words, and an easy chatter began to flow through the hut. Emma was very pleased to see the three getting along with her dad. Hagrid had mentioned what a trouble maker Remus had been, so he was now telling them a couple of pranks from back in the day.

"So then James completely flooded the bathroom next to the third floor staircase. He and Peter drug out my mattress, and used it to ride down the staircase like a water slide. Only the staircase decided to switch directions last minute, so instead of sailing down the hall, they went straight into a wall. Madam Pomfrey was not happy to treat their latest injuries."

"And where were you during all of this, Professor," Ron asked between laughs.

"Standing in the corner attempting to stay dry. Which I would have done so had I not had to carry the two idiots to the hospital wing."

"Was my dad always getting into that much trouble?" Harry asked.

Remus chuckled to himself. "Always. I can't think of a day that went by where he wasn't plotting something. But he wanted everyone around him to laugh too. He didn't measure prank success by how well everything went; he measured it by how many people he made laugh."

"Sounds like the twins," Hermione said.

"I like the twins," Emma said, sucking on a piece of cake.

"I had a feeling you would," her dad said, ruffling her hair.

Harry was nodding to himself, digesting this new piece of information. Remus leaned over the table, looking him straight in the eyes.

"I must have a million of these stories. Some about Lily too. Come by my office any time, I'll be more than happy to tell you. And I know Emma would enjoy your company."

"I would," Emma said, nodding eagerly.

Harry smiled shyly. "Alright."

"Well, it's getting late," Remus said. "It's been lovely seeing you all, but we should probably leave."

Emma pouted, wanting to stay longer but said her goodbyes anyway. As they walked back to their quarters, Emma tugged on her dad's hand.

"Prongs says I should say 'I told you so,' since I was right about you needing to come."

Her dad rolled his eyes, but he was smiling widely.

"Tell Prongs that you won't though because to do so would be rude, and I have raised a sweet, polite daughter."

"Prongs says it's rude of you to imfry that he's rude."

"Imply. The word is imply. How do you even know that word?"

"The telly."

Her dad picked her up, hoisting her onto his hip.

"And who says the telly can't be educational?"

* * *

><p>Emma was bored. Living in a magical castle seemed like it should provide a constant source of entertainment, but it seemed as if she had already done everything there was to do. She very much wanted to check out one of the library's books, but they were all written with such big words that she couldn't understand them.<p>

She decided to sit in for one of her Dad's classes. When she poked her head in the room, he wasn't there yet, but her favorite trio was. She walked up to them, ignoring the whispers about her ('Is that the Lupin kid?' 'Aww, she's so cute') and waved.

"Hi Emma," Hermione said, smiling at her. "Did you need something from your Dad?"

"No, I was bored, so I'm going to watch him teach. Oh, Hermione, you know about books, don't you?"

"You bet she does," Ron muttered.

Hermione elbowed him. "Yes, do you need help looking something up?"

"Are there any books in the liberry that don't have so many big words?"

Hermione nodded, looking thoughtful. "I think I can probably find you something. I have a free period after lunch if you want to come look with me then."

"Thanks Hermione!" Emma said enthusiastically.

"Emma?" her dad asked, coming into the room. "Do you need something?"

"No, but can I watch you teach?"

"Alright. Come sit in my chair."

"Can I sit with my friends instead?" she asked, putting on her best puppy face.

"No you may not," her dad answered easily.

Pouting, she went and sat in his seat. Watching her dad teach wasn't as interesting as Emma thought it would be, but she managed to behave herself. When class was over, she handed him a blank sheet of paper. "Moony drew you a picture in invisible ink."

"Well thank you Moony. I'll have to hang this in my office," her dad said, patting Moony on the head.

"Aww," a girl (Emma thought her name was Lavender) cooed. "Professor Lupin, your daughter is adorable!"

Emma never understood why people were always telling her dad that. Why was it a compliment to him if she was the one that was cute? It must be because he somehow contributed to her being…she was pretty sure he didn't pick her out at a baby store, that would be silly. Maybe he waved his wand and transfigured her out of something. She'd ask him later.

* * *

><p>Hermione approached the staff table just as Emma was finishing off her peas. "Are you ready to go Emma?"<p>

Emma nodded, hopping down from her chair, but her dad stopped her.

"You're going where exactly?"

"Hermione is taking me to the liberry to get a book."

"Library," he corrected automatically. "Did you tell her thank you?"

"Um..maybe.." She turned to Hermione. "Thank you."

"Oh, it's no trouble," Hermione said.

Emma took her hand, but as they were walking off, they were stopped by the twins.

"My, my, what is this?" said one of them (Emma decided to label him Thing 1).

"Surely you don't really want to read a dingy old book, do you Emma?" said Thing 2.

"But I like to read," Emma said.

"Oh leave her be you two," Hermione scolded.

"But we thought you had such promise!" Thing 2 said, clutching his heart while Thing 1 nodded sadly.

"I do! Books make you smarter, and if you're smarter, you can prank stuff better!"

"She does have a point," Thing 1 said.

"Alright," said Thing 2, "you still have promise."

Hermione quickly tugged her along. "Just ignore them Emma. They're nothing more than mindless pranksters."

Emma could swear though that the older girl's lips were twitching upwards.

Once they got to the library, Hermione easily navigated through the rolls of book shelves and to the very bag. In minutes, she had plucked up a large volume.

"This is something the advanced muggle studies class usually reads," she explained. "It's filled with fairy tells from both the wizarding and the muggle world. It's so that students can compare what each culture deems as…."

Emma stopped paying attention though. The book's cover was a glossy purple with an image of a blond haired princess being swept off her feet by a man in armor as a dragon shot fire towards them. The couple would jump out of the frame just as the fire filled the entire front.

She took the book eagerly, saying thank you again, and ran outside for a little reading time. Just as she settled down, she saw movement out of the corner of her eye. She turned her head, and swore she saw a black blur shoot into the forest.


	6. Eavesdropping

(A/N: A big thank you to my new beta sort of proud! Hopefully my chapters from now on will have less errors and more clarity :).)

* * *

><p>"Daddy!"<p>

Remus smiled as his daughter ran to him, picking her up and swinging her in his arms. He loved having a happy smile welcome him back from work every day (even if he already saw her frequently throughout the day).

"Did you and Hermione find any good books?" he asked, carrying her into their quarters and depositing her on the couch so he could make some tea. He knew the house elves could do it for him, but he always found it a bit frivolous when he could simply do it himself.

"Uh-huh," Emma said, bouncing in her seat. "It's really wicked, it has muggle stuff, and princesses, and dragons! Only the princesses don't do much. They just sit there all dull and boring-like. But I guess they spent so much time making the knights cool, they didn't have time to make the princesses do things. Do you think that there are girl-knights that save princes?"

"I'm sure there are," her dad answered. "So you're reading muggle fairy tales? Are there any wizarding ones?"

"Uh-huh, but they're at the back of the book."

"Well when you get to them I'm sure there will be more interesting heroines."

Emma wrinkled her nose. "Heroine is bad for you Daddy."

Remus turned from his tea, brow furrowed. "I beg your pardon?"

"Heroine is a drug. Drugs are bad," Emma explained as if it were the most obvious fact in the world.

Her dad's jaw dropped. He opened and closed his mouth several times. "W-Where on Earth did you learn that!" he finally asked in a weak voice.

"Celebrity drug rehab. It's a show Marie used to watch a lot when she babysat me."

Marie was very lucky that Remus was at Hogwarts because he was sorely tempted to storm over to her house and tell her exactly what he thought of exposing his precious cub to such filth! He took a calming breath, reminding himself that she would have learned about such things in a few years anyway; at least she knew they were bad.

"No Emma, not the drug. A heroine is a leading female character, like the girl version of a hero."

"That's dumb. Why can't they all just be heroes?"

"Well they can… It's just… I suppose it's so that when you're talking about a book, you can distinguish the lead's gender. If the story started out 'the young heroine,' you'd automatically know the character was a girl."

Emma seemed satisfied with that answer, so Remus turned back to his tea. Emma watched him carefully, trying to decide how to phrase her next question. The whistle on the tea kettle sounded, and her dad began pouring himself a mug.

"Hey Daddy? How are babies made?"

Her Dad jumped, spilling scalding tea on his hand. He cursed loudly, and sprinted to the sink to wash it off. He turned the water off, but didn't turn back around.

"You said a bad word," Emma informed him solemnly.

"Yes, I did."

"Does that mean you have to punish yourself?"

"Oh, believe me, this question is punishment enough," he muttered under his breath, but Emma heard it.

"Because it made you spill tea on yourself?" she asked.

"Yes, yes… rather hot tea…"

"Sorry," she apologized.

"No, no, it's alright…" he slowly turned around, looking a bit frazzled. He hastily poured himself a cuppa and dumped several squares of sugar into it. He gave it a quick swirl and downed it in one large gulp.

He made his way into the living room, and sat heavily on the chair next to the couch. "You just asked… Why ever would you want to know such a thing? I mean, it's boring business, dreadfully boring… Yes, why don't you go play with your toys?"

"Because people always congratulate you on having a cute kid. Like, it's because of you, or you did a good job doing whatever you did to get me."

Was it just her, or was her dad's face turning slightly pink?

Remus sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Look, I know you don't want to hear this day-lily, but you're too young to know."

"Well how long till I'm old enough to know?"

"Er… ten-twelve years… No, no- fifteen… twenty more years…"

Emma made a face. "But then won't I be nearly your age?"

"No, not for a while after that… On second thought, perhaps we should make it another thirty or forty years."

"Daddy!" Emma cried, "You're being ridiculous!"

He winced. "Yes," he admitted reluctantly, "I suppose I am. How about this: we never discuss this topic again till you are of a legal age, and you may have extra desert every night this week."

"Extra desert every night for the next _two_ weeks. _And_ no vegetables."

Her dad nodded, seeming relived that the subject was being dropped for the next decade.

* * *

><p>Even though Emma enjoyed the muggle fairy tales, she was enthralled by the wizarding stories. Perhaps what interested her most was the frequent use of wandless magic throughout the tales. Imagine, if she could already do magic—disregarding the occasional spurts of accidental magic—a whole six years before she even got a wand!<p>

She'd gone straight to the library in search for a book on the subject, and after a great amount of digging, had found one that appeared simple enough for her to understand. According to the book, it was actually easier for a child, or person who had yet to receive a wand, to channel their magic wandlessly than it was for an adult. The act still took a great deal of energy and had low success rates, so it was a skill that most people neglected to teach until wizards were more highly trained and could focus their magic easier. However, it also stated that if the skill was learned as a child, it had no affect on the child's ability to wield a wand, and while it would weaken with the initial use of a wand, the child could likely pick it up again easier than a child who had never learned it.

Feeling motivated, Emma took a basket of sandwiches—though she'd asked for only two, the house elves were insistent—down to the edge of the forest. She decided she would try to learn the summoning charm first.

"Accio!" she yelled, waving her hand in front of herself; unsurprisingly, nothing happened.

Undeterred, she continued, raising her voice in hopes that it would help. She was so focused on the task at hand she almost missed the flash of black that ran from one tree to the next within the forest.

"Wait!" Emma called out.

She squinted, but didn't see anything else. "I have sandwiches. You can have some! Don't worry; it's just me out here!"

Slowly, a black mass poked its head out from behind a tree. Emma gasped in surprise.

"Padfoot!"

The dog ducked its head behind the tree again.

"No, it's okay! I'm glad you're here, I like you!"

Cautiously, the dog made its way out of the trees and to her side. It seemed even thinner than Emma remembered it. She ran quickly to her basket and held out a couple sandwiches to him, which he promptly gobbled down. Emma gently scratched behind his ears and he gave her a big, tongue-lolling smile.

"Don't worry, I won't tell anyone you're here," she said conspiratorially. "Last time I did, people got all worked up about it. I don't see why, you're a good boy aren't you?"

Padfoot gave a soft yip, tail wagging. Emma gave his head one last pat.

"I've got to go soon puppy, but I'll bring you more food tomorrow, kay?"

Padfoot gave her hand a sloppy lick and darted back into the woods.

Every day after that, she'd come back to that spot to read, practice magic, and leave food for Padfoot. He didn't come out often, but the food she left always disappeared by the next day.

* * *

><p>Emma knew that eavesdropping was wrong, but she didn't think it was as bad when the people were talking about her. The full moon was only a day away, and Professor McGonagall had come over for tea with her father to discuss when Emma would be dropped off at McGonagall's to be babysat.<p>

She sat against the portrait that separated the living quarters from her dad's office and listened to the two chat.

"Remus," McGonagall said haltingly, "I understand if this is a sore topic… But has your lycanthropy carried over to Emma in any ways I should be aware of?"

"Well," her dad said, "Her past babysitters never reported any strange behavior other than a bit of grumpiness, but that could just be because she was worried about me. She likes meat. A lot. Especially near the full moon. But all kids single out a food they like to eat. Honestly, if you didn't know of my condition, you'd never notice anything different about Emma. She is in the higher range than most on all her senses, but not unreasonably so; she's merely gifted rather than strange. Excellent eyesight, hearing, reflexes, speed. The only problem is that sometimes her little legs can't keep up with her speed. She'll take a turn too fast when she's running and land flat on her backside."

Emma glared at the portrait as the adults chuckled. Her falling down was not what they should be discussing.

"And she packs quite a punch too," her dad added fondly.

"Well it sounds like we have a future Quidditch star in the making," Professor McGonagall said excitedly.

"I wouldn't hold your breath Minerva," Remus said. "Even if she does take to sports, I have a feeling Emma will be a Ravenclaw for sure."

"Are you sure? I fancied her as another little lion."

"Well I could be wrong. She's not lacking in courage by any means, but I've always pegged her for a Ravenclaw. Though, of course, I would have pegged Miss Granger the same way had she not shown up in my Gryffindor class."

"I thought the same of you when I first met you," McGonagall said, chuckling. "It was months before I saw your face _not_ buried in a book."

Emma hadn't thought much about what house she wanted to be in. She'd always assumed she'd be in her dad's house, but she wouldn't mind being a Ravenclaw, especially since her dad had almost been one.

The two sipped tea in silence for a moment. Just as Emma was about to leave, her dad's voice came out, unreadable and soft.

"Her mother was a Ravenclaw."

Emma froze, heart pounding. She didn't recall her father speaking of her mother before. She strained closer hoping to hear more.

"Well, she wasn't a very smart one," Professor McGonagall said in a decidedly protective voice.

Silence reined once more before the two drifted away into other boring, adult topics.

Emma wandered into her room and sat on the bed for a long while. So she was like her mother in a way. She wasn't sure if that was good or bad.

* * *

><p>"Now, you're going to be a good girl for Professor McGonagall, aren't you?" her dad asked for the millionth time.<p>

Emma droned out another yes, rolling her eyes. She didn't see what her dad was so worried about; she was always a good girl for the babysitters. Besides, she wasn't about to misbehave for a woman who had claws.

But perhaps she was being too hard on her dad. Even though she knew the answer (as she had asked him a million times), she couldn't stop herself from asking if he would stay in their quarters all night, and if the Wolfsbane potion would really help him.

It was the first full moon the two would spend at Hogwarts so both parties were understandably nervous.

Remus assured her he would be fine as he leaned down to ruffle her hair. He held out his hand to her and they made the trek to McGonagall's.

* * *

><p>McGonagall was a kind woman, but Emma wasn't up for much talking. The older woman watched her with a frown, bringing out the wrinkles in her face. She reached out and placed a hand to Emma's forehead.<p>

"You're running a bit of a fever. Would you like to go to Madam Pomfrey's and get a pepper-up potion?"

Emma nodded. She didn't like potions, but she was feeling awfully icky. McGonagall placed a hand on her shoulder and guided her to the hospital wing. When they arrived, a Professor in all black whom Emma recognized as Professor Snape was talking to the matron. They paused in conversation as Madam Pomfrey turned to smile at Emma.

"Well, what's wrong dearie? Not feeling too well?"

Emma shook her head.

"She's got a bit of a fever Poppy," Professor McGonagall explained. "We came to get a spot of pepper up potion."

Professor Snape shot her a rather unfriendly glance. "I wouldn't waste the potion, Poppy; it's no cure for moon sickness."

Emma frowned, taking an instant dislike to the man.

Professor McGonagall shot him a dark look.

"Never mind Professor Snape," Madam Pomfrey soothed, going to a large cabinet to collect the potion. "He's just a wee-bit cranky."

Professor Snape sneered at her.

"Maybe he needs a pepper up potion," Emma suggested in her best innocent voice.

The two women fought to suppress smiles as Professor Snape's eyes narrowed. He turned on his heel, robes billowing behind him as he exited. Emma wasn't sure, but she could have sworn she heard him mutter 'lupine brat' under his breath.

"Here you go dear," Madam Pomfrey said as she handed her a potion. "Now just drink that and make sure to get plenty of rest, and you'll be right as rain tomorrow.

Emma nodded, obediently taking the potion. She winced uncomfortably as steam began billowing from her ears. It did make her feel better though. She decided that she liked the matron; she'd have to do something nice for her and Professor McGonagall.

* * *

><p>The next morning, Emma walked several paces in front of Professor McGonagall back to her quarters. When she slipped behind the office portrait, she was surprised to see her dad out of bed and sitting on the couch.<p>

"Daddy!" she yelled, running up to his side to hug him.

"Hey Emma-Lily," he said in a slightly hoarse voice. He smiled tiredly up at Professor McGonagall. "How was she?"

"Just fine, very well-behaved. She did have a touch of fever though, so Poppy set her up with a Pepper-up potion. We met Severus on the way; she suggested that he take one as well."

Her dad chuckled, running a hand through her hair. "Maybe she will be in Gryffindor after all," he said to the Professor. To Emma he said, "That was a tad rude sweetie; you really should be nice to Professor Snape."

Emma nodded, knowing it was no use to argue that the hook-nosed man hadn't been very nice to her.

Professor McGonagall bid them a good morning and left. Emma crawled up next to her dad, leaning against him. "So did the Wolfsbane work?"

"Like magic," he said, kissing the top of her head.

* * *

><p>Though he was tired, her dad had felt up to attending the staff meeting that night. To their delight, Emma had picked flowers for Professor McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey for helping to take care of her; and to everyone's shock, she had also given a handful of daisies to Professor Snape.<p>

The man was more animated than any of his colleagues had ever seen him—he looked downright horrified. His jaw was slack, eyes darting around as if trying to find who else she could be trying to hand the bright yellow flowers to.

"I thought you could use some color," Emma explained. "My Daddy told me that you lived underground, so I thought you might like them.

Slowly, he reached for the flowers. He held them awkwardly, slightly away from his body, and bit out a thank you from between his teeth.

Headmaster Dumbledore's eyes were twinkling with mirth, and Professor Sprout had covered her mouth with her hand.

"And what do you say Emma?" her dad asked, sounding suspiciously gleeful.

"You're welcome!" Emma said brightly, settling down to color some pictures whilst the grown-ups talked.

When they left the meeting that night, her dad turned to her. "Not that I mind you giving flowers to Professor Snape—on the contrary, I think it a very hilar—sweet thing to do—but why? I was under the impression you didn't care for him much."

"He seems grumpy, and flowers make people feel better. Besides," she said, dropping her voice to a low tone, "when people are mean to you and you're nice to them, it makes them feel bad, so they're nicer to you. What's that thing you always say? 'Kill them with kindness?'"

Remus stopped walking, having a horrible vision of his sweet little Emma-Lily draped in Slytherin green. Perhaps she had been hanging out with too many adults, or maybe it was all of that blasted muggle television her babysitters had let her watch. Yes, that was it; no more muggle telly corrupting his innocent day-lily.

* * *

><p>(AN: Thanks to everyone who has continued to read my story. Next time Sirius will make a non-canine appearance, so you should give me lots of writing-fuel feedback ;). )


	7. Halloween

A/N: Thanks to my beta sort of proud! And to all of my lovely readers!

* * *

><p>"Remus Lupin, I am highly disappointed in you," Professor McGonagall said at dinner one night. "I have watched your daughter completely ruin her appetite with desserts all week, and you have not stepped in once to correct her behavior. How do you expect her to grow properly if you don't see to it that she's eating the foods she needs to?"<p>

Even as a grown adult, Emma's dad still squirmed under the older woman's stern look.

"It's okay," Emma said around a spoonful of pudding. "Daddy bribed me, but next week I'm eating normal again."

Her dad buried his face in his hands as his fellow staff members stopped eating to listen in.

"He _bribed_ you?" Professor McGonagall said, aghast. "Whatever for?"

"Ummm, I don't think I'm allowed to say it out loud…"

"No, you're not," her dad said, not looking up from his hands.

"Leave them be Minerva," Dumbledore chuckled. "It's Remus's decision how he wants to raise his daughter, and what he chooses to bribe her over."

"Careful Lupin," Snape drawled. Emma jumped. She didn't think she'd ever heard the man speak at dinner before. "If you give her a taste for manipulation now, you may end up with a Slytherin on your hands."

Her dad looked up from his hands, appearing vaguely horrified.

"There's nothing wrong with being a Slytherin," Professor McGonagall said, but Emma figured she was only saying it to be nice.

Emma looked at Professor Snape curiously. "If I were a Slytherin then I'd be sneaky, right?"

"You'd be cunning; able to get what you want, when you want," he said.

She shrugged. "That doesn't sound so bad."

"Don't get your hopes up. I doubt Slytherin would take her."

Professor McGonagall turned her admonitions to Professor Snape, while Remus sent him a glare, recognizing the underlying barb about Emma being the child of a werewolf.

His glare was broken when Professor Flitwick leaned over to whisper to him. "Really though, what did you bribe her for?"

The small man's obvious amusement made him crack a grin, and he whispered back the answer. Flitwick chuckled, making an 'oh' face.

Emma ignored the adults around her, refocusing on her dessert.

* * *

><p>"Why look, it's the little Lupin child!"<p>

Emma turned around, smiling when she saw the twins. "Fred! George!"

"At your service," they said, bowing.

She ran up to them happily, hugging their knees. "I haven't seen you two in forever!"

"Technically, you see us every night at dinner."

"That's not the same," Emma said with a pout. Her pout quickly turned into a smile. "Oh, oh! I think I can tell you two apart now!"

"Really?" they asked at the same time. "Then who's who?"

She pointed at the one on the left. "You're George because you have more freckles." She pointed to the one on the right. "And you're Fred because you have less freckles and your smile is more evil. Oh and Fred is Thing 1 because 'F' comes before 'G.'"

They exchanged a look—Fred appeared particularly delighted to have the more 'evil' smile—before turning to pat her generously on the back.

"Well done little Lupin. You can tell us apart better than our own mum!" George laughed.

"And someone has finally realized that I'm the evil twin!" Fred smirked.

"Now, now, Thing 2," his twin sighed, "it won't do to get ahead of yourself. After all, the most evil one is usually the one who looks the most innocent."

"Then am I the most evil one?" Emma asked.

"What makes you think you look innocent?" George asked.

"I'm little," Emma answered simply.

The twins shrugged, conceding that she had a point; no one ever suspected the little ones.

"Would you like to eat breakfast with us?" Fred asked.

Emma nodded, reaching up to take the twins hands as they made their way to the Great Hall. On the way the twins kept telling Emma silly stories to make her laugh, and several older girls stopped them to comment on Emma's cuteness, and how good the twins were with her.

Emma was starting to think that maybe she had some mysterious magic that gave people the impulse to compliment everyone around her.

Just before they slipped into the Hall, she heard Fred whisper to his brother "Blimey, she's a bigger chick-magnet than a puppy!"

They shared large smiles complete with eyebrow wiggles. When they noticed Emma's stare, they dropped the smiles and adopted morose frowns that made her giggle.

They took seats near the Golden Trio, who all greeted her politely.

"I ran into your dad today," Harry said, leaning over to whisper to Emma conspiratorially. "He invited me to some after-dinner tea and biscuits."

Emma clapped excitedly, practically bouncing in her seat.

Harry shook his head. "You're probably more excited about the prospect of sweets than having me over."

Emma shook her head violently at the teasing, launching into a rant of how happy she was that he and her dad were getting a long since Harry was practically her cousin, and family should stick together, and she could show him her room, and—She abruptly stopped her speech, catching sight of the cover of Hermione's newspaper.

_Sirius Black Still at Large!_ Under the headline was a picture of what appeared to be a skeleton with wild, rolling eyes, and a tangled mane of hair. She remembered the name from the past summer. Her dad had gotten all freaked out about it, but she had never understood why.

"Who's Sirius Black?"

Several eyes swung towards her.

"You mean you don't know?" Ron asked a bit incredulously.

"She's only a child Ron, her father probably didn't want to worry her," Hermione said reasonably.

Inwardly, Emma bristled a bit at being called 'only a child,' but she let it slide since Hermione hadn't meant anything mean by it.

"Should we tell her then?" Ron whispered back to Hermione. His voice was faint, and Emma had to strain to hear it. "I mean, isn't that her dad's job?"

"Sirius Black is an escaped criminal," Harry said in a hard voice, startling everyone. "He is a dangerous man, who did very bad things. He's the reason the Dementors are here."

Emma glanced back at the newspaper. She couldn't imagine someone that frail looking being dangerous. "What did he do?"

Here Harry paused. He didn't want Professor Lupin mad at him if he scared his daughter—not that he wanted to scare Emma—but he knew what it was like to have facts sugar-coated for him because he was young. Though he was a teenager whereas Emma was, as Hermione had said, only a child. Still, he felt she deserved to know the truth, if only so she understood why she needed to follow the safety rules. But how could he make a mass murderer seem less scary?

"Black…he… well… Have you ever heard the story of Snow White?" Harry asked.

Emma nodded. It had been in the book she'd gotten from the library.

"Well you know how the evil queen sends the huntsman to kill Snow White?"

The twins and Ron were staring at Harry as if he was crazy, but Emma's eyes slowly widened.

"He tried to kill somebody?" she asked.

She looked around at all of the solemn faces, a horrible sinking feeling seizing her gut. "He _did_ kill someone," she said, eyes glued to Black's photograph. "He wasn't nice like the huntsman…."

"No," Harry said softly, "he wasn't. But you don't need to worry about him. Hogwarts is the safest place in the world."

Emma nodded, relaxing a little. Her daddy was there to protect her, along with all of the other teachers. Even the Dementors, scary as they were, were there to protect her. Besides, what would a criminal want with a school anyway?

"That's enough of this depressing talk," George said, reaching up to get a plate of eggs. "If you lot don't hurry and eat, it's going to get cold."

The tension at the table released itself, and a lighter conversation began to flow, and Emma nearly forgot all about Sirius Black. None the less, Emma began to carry her stuffed Moony with her even more than before.

* * *

><p>Remus leaned against the door-frame, watching in amusement as Emma gave Harry a tour of her room. The poor boy seemed a bit unsure of how to handle the five-year-old (which wasn't that uncommon. Most people who weren't around small kids often were that way). To be fair, Harry seemed unsure about himself in a lot of things. It made him sad to think of the confident little baby he'd once held suffering from an unnecessary, and even baffling, lack of self-confidence.<p>

Harry was a bright student in the majority of his classes, and had already accomplished amazing things in his young life. Frankly, Remus couldn't see where this insecurity was coming from. Harry was still a teenager, he reminded himself. He supposed hesitance probably came with his confusing age.

"If you're done monopolizing Harry's attentions, Emma, there are fresh biscuits in the parlor."

Emma broke off mid-speech, giving her dad a strange look. "Monopoly-izing?"

"Monopolizing. It means to dominate or take complete possession of."

Emma nodded, racing towards the kitchen, and muttering the word 'monopolizing' under her breath. She liked that one; she'd try to remember it.

* * *

><p>Tea with Harry was fun. He and her dad had begun talking about things that she didn't really understand, but they were both smiling, and the happy atmosphere made her happy. Eventually though, her dad began telling familiar tales of his school days.<p>

"So James and Peter both had a bet going on how long it would take the Ravenclaw seeker to catch the snitch against Slytherin—they'd never acknowledge that Slytherin also had a chance at the snitch—and the looser had to streak through the Great Hall during supper. Normally James was more Quidditch savvy, but for once, Peter won."

"Did he actually do it?" Harry asked with a sort of embarrassed awe.

"Oh yes, he did. He was only supposed to run up to the staff table and out the Hall, but on his way, he slipped on, if you'd believe it, a banana peel of all things. So he began running in circles, flailing his arms to try and regain his balance, till he finally landed, bottom up, on top of the staff table. Merlin, the pictures that went around haunted him for the rest of the year."

The three laughed, and Emma smiled widely, feeling like Harry was officially part of the family now.

* * *

><p>Emma smiled proudly, looking at herself in the mirror. It was Halloween, and she may not have been going trick-or-treating this year, she wasn't going to let anything stop her from dressing up. Her costume was very simple: a pale green dress, flower jewelry she'd made herself, and lots of makeup. She was going to be a field fairy today, and her dad had helped her paint her face brown and green, and apply glitter galore.<p>

She spun upstairs to her dad's office. He'd gotten a new creature in today called a Grindylow. It snarled at her as she passed, but she ignored it.

"Are you busy Daddy?"

He shook his head, giving her a fond smile. "I was just about to have a cup of tea. Would you like some too?"

She nodded, sitting in one of the chairs near his desk. Her dad stood, and suddenly walked to his office door, a curious expression on his face. "Harry?" he called out.

Emma turned too. Within seconds, the teen had appeared in the doorway and had been invited to tea. When he saw Emma, he laughed softly.

"And what are you supposed to be?"

"I'm a field fairy. Daddy helped me."

"He did a good job. You hardly look like yourself. And who's your surly friend in the corner?" he asked, pointing towards the Grindylow.

Her dad launched into 'teacher mode.' Emma couldn't help but notice though that Harry seemed a bit down.

"Emma," her dad said, "would you mind going back to our quarters and getting some sandwiches from the kitchen? I believe I left them in the chilled cabinet."

Emma, in fact, did mind, but mostly because she suspected he was purposely sending her out so he could talk to Harry about something. Regardless, she nodded and went off to get them.

To her indignation though, there were no sandwiches. She checked every shelf, and even banged on the table to see if the house elves would deliver some (that's how her dad always summoned food. But it probably helped that he used a wand instead of his fist), but none were to be found. She couldn't even find bread to _make_ sandwiches. Emma marched back to her dad's office a little miffed. If she was going to be sent away to do an errand, it should at least be a _real_ errand.

When she came to her dad's office, Harry was gone. She pouted, sending her dad an evil look. "That wasn't very nice Daddy."

"What wasn't very nice, dear?"

"There were no sandwiches."

"There weren't? My mistake."

"Where's Harry?"

"He had to run-off. Why don't you finish your tea in your room? I'm afraid I have rather a lot of work to do."

Emma's eyes narrowed. She had an awful feeling that she was missing something important. "I'm going to the owlrey."

"Alright. Have fun."

* * *

><p>Emma had been mad at her dad all day, but her anger waned at the sight of the Halloween feast. She didn't think anyone could stay mad within the presence of that much sugar. Even though their bribe had ended, her dad pretended to ignore the large amount of sugar she was consuming, which further pacified the young girl.<p>

Soon though, her belly was full, almost painfully so, and she was beginning to feel sleepy. She jumped when her dad suddenly picked her up, but relaxed into his arms as he carried her to bed.

"Can I sleep in my costume?" she yawned.

"Only if you scrub extra hard in the morning."

"Kay."

She closed her eyes, settling in bed for a long night's sleep. Despite her tiredness, sleep never found her. Her throat was uncomfortably dry, and all they had in the house was water. Emma wasn't picky, but she didn't see the point in drinking water when a quick trip to the kitchens could get her pumpkin juice (and more candy).

She snuck out, not seeing her dad. He must have turned in early. As she was making her way down the hall, a cloaked figure ran in to her—literally.

She looked up at him from her place on the floor.

Sirius Black could only stare dumbly at the green child in front of him. His instincts were urging him to run, but at the same time, he felt frozen.

She merely looked up at him innocently. "Are you dressed as a Dementor?"

Relief flooded him; she couldn't see his face. He nodded.

Emma stood, brushing herself off. The Dementor-man was tall. He was probably a seventh year student. It was a bit creepy how he wasn't talking, but she figured that was part of his Dementor-disguise.

"I like your costume," she offered. "Happy Halloween!" She quickly continued her walk to the kitchens, glad to be away from the silent stranger.

Sirius watched her go, breathing a sigh of relief. She wouldn't be having nightmares over meeting an escaped murderer in a hallway. While he'd hate to be the face of anyone's nightmares, the idea of terrifying the sweet child who played with him as Padfoot sent a wave of revulsion through him. Shaking his head, he continued his run from the castle.

* * *

><p>Emma had barely settled back into bed when her door burst open. She sat up, yelping in surprise as her dad burst in, looking half-crazed. He scooped her up and began walking out of their quarters.<p>

"Daddy? What's happening?"

Her dad took a deep breath. "There was an intruder spotted in the castle. As a precaution, we're rounding everyone up and having them sleep in the Great Hall."

An intruder? Who? What did he want?

The Great Hall was buzzing with students. Her dad seemed reluctant to set her down, when a familiar voice called out.

"Professor!"

Her dad turned to see Harry come up to him, quickly followed by Ron and Hermione.

"You have to leave Emma here, right? We can watch over her."

"Thank you," her dad said. He gave Emma one last squeeze, before handing her off to Harry. "Don't worry Emma-Lily, everything's going to be fine. I'll be back soon."

Emma watched his retreating back, filled with fears and questions. All around them, people were gossiping; it didn't take her long to figure out who the intruder was.

Sirius Black. The murderer. She clung tighter to Harry's robes. He walked over to one of the sleeping bags and sat down with her in his lap, patting her back.

"It's alright. We're safe here."

"Completely safe," Ron added.

"Lights out!" Percy's voice rang out. "Lay down!"

Emma didn't want to let go of Harry. The image of Black's photograph kept flashing across her mind. She wished her dad were there or at least Moony. But Harry was family, and she knew he would take care of her.

Hermione must have noticed her reluctance. "Here," she said softly, and transfigured two of the sleeping bags into an extra big one. "I don't think anyone will mind."

Emma gave her a weak smile, and slid off of Harry so he could lay down. She fell asleep curled to his side; head a swirl of scary thoughts.

* * *

><p>Despite the bone-deep jumble of tiredness and anger Remus felt, he couldn't help but smile when he looked down at Harry and Emma curled up together. Out of all the things that had gone wrong in his friendships, this was right. James and Lily's son comforting his daughter was how it was supposed to have been. In a different life they would have been raised like cousins or maybe even siblings.<p>

His resolve to catch Black strengthened. He refused to let that man cause any more harm to his pack.

* * *

><p>AN: As always, feedback would be much appreciated!


	8. Author's note

So, bad news: I'm pretty sure I'm going through the early stages of carpal tunnel syndrome. I don't plan to quit any of my stories, but updates are going to be delayed since I can't type very long per sitting. I just thought I should warn you all so you don't think I've given up. Sorry guys! :((((


End file.
